Cold As Ice
by BuryTheHatchet
Summary: Little Christmassy one-shot, possibly could develop if I feel like it. Any summary will ruin the surprise, so I will let you read it and you can make your own summary up. The rating may or may not be a little excessive, but it is better safe than sorry.
1. Cold As Ice

Cold As Ice

He was uncertain if he was should be doing it. His hand paused before he knocked on the door to her apartment. He knew for one thing that he should definitely not have looked in her file to find her address. He knew that he probably shouldn't have picked the lock on her gym locker to find out what size shoe she wore. His hesitation gave him the chance to think about what he was about to do. It was Christmas. She didn't celebrate Christmas. Maybe she wouldn't be in. Maybe she has company. Maybe she would be alone and not doing anything for the day. He would never know if he didn't knock. His fist tapped the door three times. Nothing. Tapped again. Nothing. Once more for luck. Nothing. He shrugged and turned, walking slowly down the hall as a door creaked open behind him and a sleepy head poked out and smiled softly before the confusion set in.

* * *

His lips were warm as they moved gently with hers. He smelt like him, which might be thought of as an odd statement, but she had no better way of explaining it. There was a knock on the door, and they both groaned. "Leave it." He whispered in her ear as she unbuttoned his shirt.

"That was the plan." She ran her fingers down his smooth chest, something nagging at the back of her mind. She shook her head and ignored it, going back to press kisses lightly along his jawbone. The knocking came again and she sighed, moving back and walking towards the door, unable to find the handle. She was certain it was there earlier. There was definitely a door handle there earlier. She tried to picture it in her mind but couldn't. Her gaze flickered across the rest of the apartment, shocked when she realised she was alone and back in her parent's house.

She gasped awake, her bedroom dimly lit by the light seeping through the curtains. Someone had been knocking on her door, or was that just the dream. No, there it was again. Yanking a blouse on over the white camisole vest and blue cotton shorts, she hurried to the door, opening it and smiling at the man who had just featured _very_ prominently in her dream. She shook her head. _That_ was never going to happen. Although, it felt very good. She blinked and wiped the smile off her face. She hadn't set her alarm, which meant she didn't have to be at work, so what was he doing there? More to the point, how did he know where there was? "What are you doing here?"

"Well, it's Christmas and I wasn't sure if you were alone, and it's not right to spend Christmas alone."

"For me it is not Christmas." She shrugged. "Should you not be with your family?"

He snorted and shook his head. "What family?"

"Well, I do not know, I just thought you might be with your parents…" She trailed off, remembering his dossier. Mother. Dead. Father. Absent. "Or a girl, maybe?"

"No, it's my day off from dating." He shrugged and walked closer. "Never spend Christmas with a girl. Never have, never will."

"Why not?"

"Christmas should be spent with the people you love."

"So what are you doing here?" She laughed, trying not to take his words seriously.

 _Now that's the question, isn't it? What was he doing there? Obvious answer – he loved her. He couldn't reply with that. She didn't love him, and an office romance would not be good. Let alone, breaking one of Gibbs' biggest rules._ "Because I don't have anyone I love and I wasn't sure if you were doing anything." He shrugged again. They must have spent half the conversation adding shrugs to the end of their sentences.

"Because you do not think I can make love?" The accidental slip of the tongue added on purpose.

"Oh, I have no doubt about that." He laughed. They were close now, and he was only just realising the meagre clothing that covered, or didn't cover, her olive skin.

"I meant, did you not think I can love?"

"That I'm not to sure about. I would need evidence."

"And how do you suppose to gather your evidence?"

"Well, doing this for starters." He grinned and walked into her apartment, trying hard not to imagine what was under the little vest and shorts. "Do you have plans?"

"Sleep, housework. I have nothing else to do."

"Good. Get dressed."

"What?"

"Tight jeans would be good. Oh and wear something warm." He smiled, plunking himself on the sofa.

"What are you doing?"

"Hoping those snow clouds will hold off long enough. Go get dressed."

"Can I at least have a shower?"

"No time. Please." He looked at her, realising that it might just be harder than he thought to get her to agree. She sighed and stormed into her bedroom, slamming the door. He started to stand up, thinking she had gone back to bed, before hearing the bang of a wardrobe and smiling. He sat back down and let his mind wander back to his mother's old Christmas tradition. The one day she wouldn't insist on dressing him up ridiculously and drinking copiously. He didn't know how long he was off in his memory before she had appeared in front of him, a lot more of her skin covered.

"So, where are we going?"

"Come on." He stood up and walked out, grinning as she protested. "It's an old DiNozzo tradition."

"Oh, that is not a comfort." She yelled. "Although I guess I can be grateful you have not told me _specifically_ what to wear." She muttered as she locked her door and he turned.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing. Just talking to myself."

"First sign of madness." He winked at her. "I have the men in white coats on speed-dial if you need them?" He offered, pulling his mobile from his pocket.

"What men in white coats?"

"The ones from the psychiatric ward."

"Why would you have their number? Do need to call them a lot?" She asked seriously, moving closer to him.

"No, I keep them around to advise."

"On what?" She frowned as they started descending the stairs of her apartment building.

"You." He said deadpan as he unlocked his car and sat in it. They drove mostly in silence, the oppressive lack of noise occasionally broken by short bursts of speech, questions asked to develop a longer conversation but didn't really get off the ground. He pulled off onto a dirt track and they drove another mile before he stopped at a field entrance. He turned to her, knowing she was watching their reflection in the window. "Stay in here whilst I get something." He smiled and climbed out of his mustang, opening the boot and removing a duffle bag. He walked to the passenger door and opened it, indicating for her to step out of the car. She looked over at the flooded field, the water frozen over. Mist still hung around the tops of the trees and across the fields further in the distance. He climbed over the gate and held his hand out to help her, smiling when she ignored it. That's what he loved – liked – liked about her, her independence.

"Tony, what are we doing here?" He grinned and shook his head.

"Can't you guess?"

"No, I cannot." She pouted as he unzipped the navy blue bag and handed her a pair of old, white leather boots with a heel and metal blade attached to each sole. She frowned, holding them up and looking at them from different angles.

"Please tell me that you know what ice skates are." He looked worriedly at her. Her frown told him everything. "Ok, I know Israel don't have much snow, but you must have been to somewhere on your travels that have icy ponds!?"

"Yes, but I am generally working. What are these for?" She held her boots up as he took a pair of hockey skates from the bag.

"We skate. On that." He pointed to the ice.

"Is that safe? What if it melts?"

"I checked it out yesterday. It's perfectly fine." He started pulling the old hockey skates on and nodded to the figure skates in her hands. "You gonna put those on?" She looked down at the worn leather and frowned, but started removing her shoes and lacing up the boots anyway.

"Are we allowed? Is this not private land?"

"Is miss Ziva David scared?" He grinned up at her from where he was lacing his skates up.

"No, I just…"

"I solved the murder of the farmers son a couple of years ago. Guy says I can use it when it freezes over whenever I want."

"Oh." She nodded and let the questions drop as she stood up unsteadily. He grinned and took her hand as she wobbled. He led her towards the ice and stepped on, taking her other as she pitched forwards and lost her footing. He wrapped his arms around her as she fell again and he eased her up to stand.

"Come on, just move carefully. And lean forwards." He took her hands again and started gently easing her towards him as he glided slowly backwards, the distance between them neither increasing nor decreasing. "Look up."

"Look up, lean forwards, move carefully. This is difficult."

"Admitting defeat, Zee-vah?" He grinned and she grit her teeth before trying again to move, slipping again.

"No." She glared at him and pulled her hands away. Her breath wavered as she tried to move further than two foot. He laughed as she refused help to stand and skated further out, adding a flourish as he turned and stopped. Determined not to embarrass herself any more than she already had, she mimicked the movement of his feet, slowly picking up the way to keep upright. Clumsily, she made her way over to him, realising he had moved the last two yards to save her the trouble. He took her hand left hand in his and wrapped his right arm around her waist, noticing her breathing hitch and, although considering other causes, put it down to her inability to skate. "Tony?" She asked as he helped her glide across the ice towards the centre.

"Zee-vah?"

"Whose ice skates am I wearing?" She twisted her foot to stop and he looked down, smiling slightly at the sight of them, like he hadn't seen her put them on. They stood in the middle of the ice. "They're old. And they are my size."

"Ah, yeah, about that. I only touched your shoes, nothing more, and I shut your locker as soon as I had checked their size."

"You broke into my locker?" She raised her eyebrows, not forgetting that he hadn't answered her original question.

"Yeah. I didn't think you'd mind when you knew why I did it."

"So whose are they?" She asked quietly.

"No-ones. I just…brought them."

"They seem to be expensive. You did not buy a pair of ice skates just for me to use once."

"They were in my attic."

"You do not have an attic."

"Oh, yeah…" He sighed, remembering his mothers face. Remembering the last time the skates had been worn. "I honestly didn't think they'd fit you, not until I checked your shoe size at least…"

"They are lovely." She smiled. "Who used to wear these?"

"My mother." He whispered quietly, his gaze fixed on something, or nothing, in the distance. "They were my mother's."

"The old DiNozzo tradition?" She moved slightly closer and stroked his cheek, their clothes too thick for her to be able to feel his elevated heart rate.

"My dad, he used to be away a lot." Tony looked down at her and she snapped back to where she had been. He slipped his hand into hers and started pulling her in circles around the natural rink. "One Christmas when he was away, my mum, she brought me a pair of skates and we went out and found a frozen lake. I was four. We did the same the next year and the next. It became tradition, when my father was out of the country, at some hotel celebrating Christmas without us, we went ice-skating. She taught me to skate. She wanted to skate professionally once upon a time." He smiled at the memory. "We would leave at the crack of dawn and wouldn't go home until it got dark. It was the only day she didn't drink. She told me it was to keep me safe, but I think it was because she had a way to remember…"

"Remember what?" Ziva asked quietly, looking up.

"I found a picture of her skating when she was younger. It was after she had died, I was going through a box of old photos. There was a man in it too. The photo, not the box." He added, making Ziva smile slightly. "I didn't recognise him, but she looked happy. Carefree. I never got to see her like that, not even on Christmas." He paused for longer, making his companion think he had forgotten that he was talking, or that she was even there, holding his hand and listening. She opened her mouth to speak, just as he began again. "I kept the photo in my wallet, hidden from my father, until I became a cop. And then I did everything I could to find out who he was. It wasn't hard; I just looked into my mother's history, her friends and family. They were childhood sweethearts, grew up two streets apart. They went skating together three times a week, every week."

"What happened to him?" She asked, so enthralled in the story that she didn't know she was talking until the words had left her mouth.

"He died in an aeroplane crash when he was on his way to a skating competition in Russia." He looked at her and smiled. "You're getting better."

"I have a good teacher." She let go of his hand uncertainly and managed to stay vertical.

"You remind me of her in a way."

"Your mother?" She stared at him.

"In a good way. And only on Christmas." He said. "She had a way of being able to listen, to understand." He moved closer to her, placing his hands on her hips. Hesitation made him pause, giving her adequate time to pull away if she wanted to as he leaned down and gently brushed his lips against hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning up slightly and misjudging as they both slipped, landing on the cold ice. "You ok?" He whispered as both their breathing slowed down, neither sure whether it was the shock of the fall or the kiss that had made their breathing increase.

"You pillowed my fall." She whispered in his ear, their position reminding her of their day spent in the shipping container.

"Cushioned." He grinned back, staring directly into her eyes, allowing herself to get lost in their hypnotic depths.

"Are you?"

"Yeah. Not the first time I've fallen on the ice."

"The first time you have fallen whilst kissing a girl?"

"No." He shrugged, looking at her frown and smiling at the almost hurt look that she was trying to cover. "You're no girl, Ziva David."

"I am most definitely a girl and you know that as well as I do!" She yelled at him, trying to stand up, not realising the true meaning behind his words.

"You're a woman, Ziva David." He whispered in her ear, restraining her so she could not continue her struggle to move away from him. "And I have never fallen over kissing a woman on ice."

"So you have never fallen over kissing anybody on ice." She caught on, a grin doing all it could to break out on her face, as she kept stony.

"Hallelujah!" His smile widened even more. "She understands." He brushed the hair that was tumbling around her face and onto his cheeks back before kissing her gently.

"You are sure you did not hit your head?" She asked, pulling back to catch her breath.

"Why? The kiss no good?" He frowned.

"The kiss was very good. That is the problem."

"I'm confused. You didn't think I would be any good?"

"No, I thought you would be very good. My point is that you were kissing me."

"I know that. It would be hard not for me to know that." He frowned at her confusing labyrinth of questions and statements.

" _Me_ , Tony. Ziva."

"I know I was kissing _you_. How could I not?"

"Well, you are you. If you had not bonged your head then you would not be kissing me."

"Ah, well, your logic would make sense had I actually _banged_ my head and were it not me kissing you in the first place that made us fall." He watched as she went through this. "Though you might want to let me check you for head injuries, seeing as you weren't arguing a moment ago."

"I am not arguing. I just do not want to make a mistake. Or for you to make a mistake."

"You are definitely no mistake." He shook his head and ran a finger down her cheek. "And to be honest I don't think I am either. Nor do you."

"No? What makes you so confident?" She asked, trying to control her response to his proximity. She had disarmed bombs, but she could not disarm Tony DiNozzo and his charm.

"The look in your eyes." He smiled as she closed them reflexively. "Don't close them. They're beautiful." They fluttered open, her brown eyes meeting his green ones, crinkling in the corners as she smiled.

"I like your smile." She ran her thumb along his lips before pressing hers to them again.

"Yes, and as much as I like laying here with your body pressed to me, and although it could be improved greatly with fewer layers of clothing between us, I'm getting cold and it's starting to get dark." He grinned as she looked up, flakes of snow landing in her hair. "Come on." He whispered in her ear as she rolled off of him and stood up, leaning on his head as he sat up to keep herself upright. They skated back, hand-in-hand as the snow started to fall, a light dusting covering the ice as they changed into the shoes they had left by the gate. "You ever had a snowball fight?"

"I never saw the point in throwing frozen projectiles into one-another's faces." She looked at him, his stare.

"At least we can be grateful that you know what a snowball fight is." He sighed. "Tomorrow, I am calling Abby and the Probie, and we are going to have a snowball fight." He stated before climbing into the mustang, not giving her time to argue. She shook her head and laughed, looking up to the heavy dark clouds as the white flakes melted on her flushed pink cheeks.

 **A/N: I am unsure of where this came from, except maybe a morning spent ice-skating with my brother and father, but none of this actually happened, because that would have been beyond weird. I do not know if America gets flooded lakes that freeze over in winter, but we do in England, or at least we used to before it got so damn warm. I do so greatly dislike global warming. Anyway, what I was going to say was that I cannot remember much about Tony's mother, but since this is a little AU (Or a lot, depending on your universe compared to mine.) I am going to put any mistakes down to artistic licence, much like I usually do. Oh, and I do know that it is not Christmas, I just knew that I would have forgotten about this by next year.**

 **For my reference: 9th NCIS fic.**


	2. Snow Day

**So, after FanFiction being 'on the fritz' (brownie points to whoever remembers the episode that is from first!) for about a week and not letting me read any of my reviews on the website itself and making me look at my emails every time I want to read them, I came home to see that I could once again read all of my reviews! It made me very happy, so I might just put this up now and make everyone else happy too!**

 **Lets just hope Fanfiction keeps letting me read all of the lovely reviews you all write.**

Snow Day

"This is becoming a habit of yours, yes?" She opened her front door to him, her smile widening.

"And what habit would that be?"

"Turning up on my doorstep early in the morning."

"Not that early in the morning." He looked at his watch and frowned.

"It is when we do not have to be at work."

"What we're gonna do is better than work."

"I like my work. A lot."

"I know. I've seen that sadistic little look in your eyes." He laughed and lifted the arm that was barring his entry into her apartment out of the way.

"I do not have a sadistic look in my eyes!"

"Well, not right now." He shrugged. "Warm clothes. Now." She narrowed her eyes and walked closer to him, her warm breath light on his cheek.

"Is that an order, Tony?" She whispered, their noses almost touching.

"Would it make you dress faster if it were?"

"Agent Tony DiNozzo, impatient for a woman to put clothes _on_? You must be ill."

"Oh, trust me, there will be plenty of time for me to be impatient for you to take your clothes off later. But I do have standards, and one of those is that the women I date have a pulse and an average body temperature of a normal living human."

"High demands." She whistled.

"Yeah, and if we're late, Abby will probably kill you without leaving any forensic evidence. And I would not like that." He leant forwards, letting his lips brush gently against hers.

"Tony, do Abby and McGee know about…"

"Us? No. If I told Abby the whole of NCIS would know about it by now and there is a fair chance that one or both of us would have lost our jobs." He took her hands in his, pressing his lips against the back of each.

"Do you think that Gibbs will be mad?"

"Gibbs doesn't get mad." Tony shrugged. "He get's angry, and you won't like him when he's angry. That last bit's from 'The Incredible Hulk'."

"I know. You have used that line before." She grinned, pressing her lips to his, with much more vigour than he had just moments before.

"You're eager, aren't you?" He chuckled quietly.

"Is that a problem, Tony?" She grinned.

"All in good time. And at this time we have a war to win."

"I would not call a snowball fight a war, Tony." She laughed, slipping out of his grasp and walking through to the bedroom where she proceeded to dress in similar attire to that of the day beforehand.

"And you have never been in a snowball fight with Abby."

"Is it really going to be that bad?"

"Your Mossad ninja training will not be helping you now." He grinned as she walked over to him. "I can promise you that."

"And you never break a promise."

"No. Never. My mother told me that was one thing I was never allowed to do." He looked into her eyes. "Come on, we'll be late." The moment was broken and he grinned.

* * *

They pulled up into Tony's regular parking space in the NCIS car park. The snow had deepened over the night to become just shallower than a foot deep. Tony killed the engine and turned to her, pausing before starting to speak. "Now, Abby and McGee take these things seriously. You are on my team, and friendly fire will not be tolerated. We stick together as much as possible, and if we leave wherever we are based, we either destroy or take any snowballs we have pre-made with us. What's so funny?"

"You are taking this more seriously than work."

"This is more serious than work. This is hit or be hit."

"How do you win?"

"What?"

"How do you win a snowball fight?" Ziva looked at his stunned face.

"You don't."

"You do not win?"

"No. It's a snowball fight. You just throw snowballs at each other." He shrugged. "There's no winning."

"So what is the point? And why are we at the Navy Yard?"

"The point is to try not to get hit with snow." He sighed. "And the Navy Yard is great for snowball fights. There's nobody here, there's a lot of snow, and there are a lot of hiding places. Any more questions?"

"Wha…" Ziva started as a compacted white projectile hit the windscreen and they both automatically ducked down.

"What ever you were about to ask, we don't have time. They've seen us." He peeked over the dashboard and saw a flash of black as Abby darted behind a tree. "Use the doors as shields, head for the building over there." He pointed. "On three." There was a nod as he began his countdown. Count-up? He wasn't certain which was entirely correct. Or why he was thinking about it at that point in time. They both exited the car at the same time, crouching behind the doors as they waited for the assault of snowballs to start hitting the car. As soon as the hail began, they made their mad dash to shelter. "Okay, there's limited snow here, and we don't have sufficient cover, so we're gonna head for that sign over there." He pointed in the direction of the sign in front of the building.

"And how are we going to do that without being hit?"

"Well, you have made a good decision by wearing a white coat, you'll blend in better with the snow." He tugged her head up, tucking her hair into the white fur. "It's really soft by the way."

"It is not real fur."

"You don't believe in the fur trade?"

"No. And I could not afford real fur with this job anyway." She laughed slightly as he kissed her gently.

"Good luck." He breathed.

"You too." They both nodded and checked around the corner. Abby and McGee were bent over creating a pile of snowballs that was, unsurprisingly, growing very large. Treading as quickly and quietly as possible on the crisp white blanket, they made their way to the sign. They reached it without their opponents noticing, ducking quickly and starting to compact the cold substance into roughly spherical shapes. Tony smiled as Ziva caught on quickly, mimicking his well rehearsed, finely honed technique. The crisp morning air was broken by Abby laughing as another missile sailed over their heads and hit the wall of the building behind them.

"Nice throw Abby!" Tony yelled, leaning his head out from their hideout and threw the snow in his hand at her, just missing the black pigtails as they disappeared behind the tree again.

"Not to bad yourself! You been practicing?"

"Just a little with the kid down the hall from my apartment last night! You?"

"I used the ground floor door to my apartment building as target practice. Some of my neighbours got pretty irritated."

"How about you, McGee?" Ziva said, standing quickly and throwing a snowball at the branches of the tree. Tony looked at her and shook his head before it hit, smiling when the ball disintegrated and fell onto of their adversaries' heads, dislodging more snow from the branches. "Does that still count as hitting them?" She whispered quietly as Abby and Tim squealed.

"By those sounds I would say yes." He grabbed her wrist and pulled her back down as another snowball whistled past her ear.

"I've been practicing tennis lately, Ziva, my aim's getting a lot better."

"Did you just say 'Tennis', Probie?" Tony yelled, laughing.

"Yeah, you got a problem with me playing tennis?"

"Do you wear the little white shorts?" He relished in the jokes.

"Are you wanting to see McGee in little white shorts, Tony?" Ziva whispered, narrowing her eyes and trying to hide the smile that was creeping onto her face.

"Getting jealous, Zee-vah?" Tony grinned.

"No. Would you want to see me in little white shorts?"

"No. I'd prefer to see you without the little white shorts, but right now we have a more pressing issue." He hissed.

"And what would that be?"

"Abby and McGee have just moved closer and that trick you did with the tree won't work on a bench." He slid away from the sign again with her and pelted them, smiling as four of the five thrown hit home. They both ran back, suffering a few casualties themselves as a snowball hit Tony's back and Ziva gasped when something cold and wet slapped her face. She reached her hand up to her numbing cheek where the snowball had hit.

"That hurt!" She rubbed the pink skin, throwing one back and grinning as it hit the back of McGee's head. Tony wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her out of the line of fire, misjudging and making her fall over on top of him. "Another bad habit you are developing." She stared into his eyes, snowballs momentarily forgotten.

"I don't think this one is all so bad either." He chuckled, making no move to extract himself from their position. "And since it is you who keeps falling on top of me, I believe that you are the one with the habit."

"Well, that might be true." She shrugged. "But you are more known for bad habits."

"And like I said, I don't think it's such a bad habit." He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and stroked the reddening cheek that had been hit by the compacted snow. She leaned down and pressed her lips to his softly.

They had made it half way to the sign without making a noise. Or alerting them to their presence. Which, for a trained assassin not to notice _him_ was really quite an achievement. They crept closer and he glared at Abby when she made a heavier step and the snow under her foot crunched slightly. Again, silence from Tony and Ziva. Maybe it was a trick. Maybe they were lulling them into a false sense of security. He was beginning to feel uncomfortable. So, grabbing Abby's arm he stopped where he was and shook his head. She yanked her arm away and nodded to the sign, only a metre away now, and stepped closer, smiling when Tim followed. He sighed inwardly, frowning when Abby froze completely, stunned, and taking the few steps closer. And he stopped too, stunned even more than Abby.

It was Tony.

And Ziva.

Kissing?

Tony and Ziva.

Tony and Ziva kissing.

Tony, yes, he was unsurprised by Tony lying on the floor with his lips attached to a woman. It was in his nature.

But Ziva? No, Ziva was too sensible for that. It couldn't be. But it was. It was Ziva lying on top of Tony. Kissing?

At what point had the earth fallen off its axes? At what point had rule 12 just stopped existing?

At what point had Tony and Ziva become ' _Tony and Ziva_ '?

He turned his head to Abby, raising his eyebrows. She just shrugged and held a handful of loose snow over Ziva's head, flicking a grin to McGee before turning the outstretched hand palm down and letting the snow drop. The Israeli woman gasped and literally jumped away from Tony as they both scrambled to their feet, the redness of Ziva's cheeks now from more than just the snowball that had hit her. Neither offending party looked to one another or to Abby and Tim, keeping their eyes fixed firmly on their shoes.

"Did I just see what I think I saw?" Abby looked at Tony, knowing that Tony would be easier to break than Ziva. "Anthony DiNozzo, you will answer me when I ask you a question, or I will have to throw you to the dogs!"

"What dogs?" Ziva frowned, breaking their silence first.

"Gibbs." The scientist grinned, turning to look at her. "Anything you want to mention, Officer David?"

"It's Ziva's fault!" Tony winced as Ziva elbowed him. "What, it's your habit!"

"A habit suggests its happened more than once." McGee smiled.

"So what if it has, Probie?"

"Once could just be put down to a slight lapse in judgement, twice could be considered as warning signs precursory to a sever mental disorder, but three times, three times makes it a very, very dangerous love affair."

"Quit the fiction McMetaphor, we're not in one of your books."

"Technically Tony, we are in all of his books." Ziva pointed out, looking at him for the first time since being interrupted and nodding imperceptibly at the look in his eyes that meant that the third was most definitely what it was, and what it was going to stay as for as long as they wanted.

"A very good point." He grinned and turned back to McGee and Abby. "We are not in one of your books right now."

"Not fiction, Tony. We both saw you two kissing."

"Impossible."

"Inconceivable."

"Impracticable."

"Nice word." Tony stared at Ziva again, nodding after their volley of words beginning in I.

"I have a 'word of the day', which emails me and gives me a different word. I thought it would help me with my English, but that is the first time I have ever been able to use one."

"No, it's a good word." He grinned, again oblivious to Abby and Tim.

"And going back to the issue at hand." McGee coughed.

"Right, snow, lets build a snowman." Tony walked away to a patch of untouched snow, which was in great abundance.

"Tony, that was not what we were talking about." Abby whined.

"No? I thought it was." Ziva shrugged and joined him.

"Hey, Ziva's never built a snowman, so this will be a lot easier with you two helping instead of just standing there." Tony said as he began packing snow into a ball that was to become the body. Tim and Abby looked to one-another and sighed, knowing that their questions were not answered, but for now they would just have to come up with some other method for extracting their desired data.

* * *

"They're very realistic." McGee said as he looked at the four snowmen they had built.

"Very." Ziva tilted her head, smiling at their artwork.

"Abby, why did you have Ducky's hat in your car?"

"His Morgan broke down the other day and I gave him a ride home and he must have left it there by mistake." She shrugged, walking over to the icy recreation of the old pathologist and straightened the bowtie and glasses made out of twigs.

"I do like the bottle of bourbon and glass jar Gibbs is holding." Ziva laughed.

"And the scrubs on Jimmy." Tony grinned proudly at the way he had managed to sneak into Autopsy to retrieve them. "Hey, McPhone, can you get a picture of these on your little camera phone thingy?"

"Do you think they will have melted by Monday morning?" Ziva asked worriedly.

"No, but I just think Fornell would like to see what we thinks he looks like."

"Yeah, Tony, why is it that we have an FBI jacket?"

"Slacks left it at my desk as a sick little joke last time he was here." Tony growled, reaching to put his arm around Ziva's waist and smiling when he felt her body relax slightly. McGee and Abby had, of course, noticed, but both decided to let it slide for now. If they were happy then how could they stop them. It was just when things went south, as they always did with Tony and Ziva's relationships, that there were going to be problems, least of all would be Gibbs.

 **I was not really sure where to end it, and I hated every ending that I wrote, so I left it where it was. Maybe I shall add more, I just do not know what more they can do in the snow.**


End file.
